


Someone Like You

by soyforramen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, F/M, Fred Lives, Magic AU, alternate endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soyforramen/pseuds/soyforramen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred meets a familiar woman in Muggle London who knows nothing of the wizarding world. Now if she can survive meeting the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Short chaptered piece because I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head for the past few months and Crispers is giving me all sorts of trouble. Major AU in that one particular character didn't go to Hogwarts (I'm sure you'll need only one to figure out who.)
> 
> Named after an old Doris Day song.

Harry

"Fantastic breakfast as usual Mum," Fred mumbled through the last of the muffins Mrs. Weasley had laid out.

"It really is, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said wholeheartedly as he went back for his third helping of hash and sausage.

"Thank you my dears," Mrs. Weasley said with a wistful sigh. She gazed towards the family clock before sitting down heavily, almost as if the weight of the world rested upon her shoulders. "If only more of your brothers would stop by every now and then. It would make your father and I so happy if we could see our children more often than at holidays. The house is so quiet since you've all moved out; we just don't know what to do with ourselves." When there was no response to her sighs, Mrs. Weasley glanced at Fred and Harry could see a familiar calculating glint in her eyes. "And perhaps I'd start cooking those blueberry pancakes you love so much."

Far too used to his mother's attempts to guilt and bribe her children home, Fred only rolled his eyes and took another bite of egg. It had been the same thing ever since he'd moved out eight years ago. Every morning Mrs. Weasley would make a feast of a breakfast and set the table for ten despite knowing that Harry and Fred were the only ones who would show up, Harry because Ginny left far too early for Quidditch practice and Fred because his few attempts in the kitchen had ended in impromptu trips to St. Mungo's. And at the end of every breakfast, Mrs. Weasley would look towards the family clock and sigh, moping and lamenting the loss of her children in a misguided attempt to guilt the two into dragging George and Ginny along with them.

Harry shifted uncomfortably and shoved more hash into his mouth, still unused to her guilt trips despite being subjected to them for the past thirteen years.

"Mum you forget most of your children have wives that cook breakfast for them," Fred finally told her. "Save for poor Harry here," he amended with a glance at his brother-in-law. "Last time Gin tried to use the kitchen he was out from training for a week with food poisoning. Sorry mate, but we all tried to warn you off her scones," he said with a shrug as he reached for the last of the sausages.

"Frederick Gideon Weasley! I raised you better than to say such things in my house," Mrs. Weasley chided as she jerked plate closer to her. Fred pouted and watched her place the last piece of sausage onto Harry's plate. "Ginny only needs more practice, and if you were a halfway decent brother you'd offer to help her out."

"Good thing I'm only a quarter-decent, or we wouldn't be so successful, eh Harry?" Fred said as he gave his mother a wink.

Harry only shoved another piece of toast in his mouth, a diversionary tactic he'd learned early on from Ron and Charlie.

"And just for that you're going into Muggle London with your father today. I don't want him lost in that fussy department store again, Merlin only knows when he'd wander back. It took us a week before we found him last time and we can't miss Aunt Muriel's ninety-ninth birthday next Friday," Mrs. Weasley said with a scowl as she stood up and begin to clear the table.

Fred's jaw dropped in disbelief and Harry had to stifle a laugh. It was well known in the family that a trip with Mr. Weasley into Muggle territory was a three person job. Just last month he'd somehow made his way to Harrod's and, upon seeing the extensive electronics and housewares departments, had taken it upon himself to catalogue the entirety of the store. He'd managed to live in the store for six days unnoticed until the night guard had caught the kitchenware dancing to David Bowie's 'Let's Dance.' Now Mr. Weasley had a lifelong ban from Harrod's and the night guard's had the memory of the incident and the taste of cinnamon wiped from his mind.

"But mum, I can't. George and I have tons to do today. The inventory isn't ready for the Hogsmeade opening, the stack of backorders is starting to reach the ceiling, the deadline for filing the papers on the new fireworks is next week, and we still haven't been able to work on the new line of defense for the Ministry. And with Lee out this past week with the dragon pox and Verity gone for that fife thing –"

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and stopped in front of her son, staring him down until his excuses finally sputtered to a stop. "No buts young man. Your father has done so much for all of us, far more than any of us deserve. The least you can do is spend just one day with him. And most importantly keep him out of trouble."

"But Mum –"

"Really, Molly. It's not necessary for Fred to come with me, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself," Mr. Weasley's soft voice said from behind his copy of the paper. Harry jumped at the sound of his voice; he hadn't realized that he was still at the table. "Besides, I doubt he'd be interested in the history of the Roman Aqueducts."

"I said he's going and that's final," Mrs. Weasley said, glaring at her husband and son as if daring them to contradict her, the used dishes continuing their journey to the kitchen behind her. When neither continued to protest, she gave a final nod and walked towards the kitchen, the rest of the dishes jumping off the table to follow her.

Fred glared at the table and grumbled a bit more, his voice soft enough that it didn't carry past the table. Mr. Weasley shook out his paper once and went back to his reading.

Harry snuck out of the room quickly before Mrs. Weasley remember that he was there and suggested that he pop round for another visit to Privet Drive. The last time she'd suggested he visit was three years ago and she'd sent Mr. Weasley and George along with him to make sure the Muggles were behaving appropriately. Harry hadn't wanted to go, but Mr. Weasley had insisted, more for the opportunity to go inside a Muggle house rather than out of some familial obligation. Mr. Weasley had quickly become preoccupied with Aunt Petunia's kitchen appliances and as she chased him around the kitchen, Harry, Dudley, and George had all sat around the kitchen table in an uncomfortable silence. When they finally left three hours later, Mr. Weasley was so grateful to Aunt Petunia for explaining the appliances to him (or rather, shouting at him to put down her egg timer and stop touching her espresso machine) that he bewitched her broom with a self-cleaning charm, a charm that George had gleefully altered to chase a person down whenever a bad word about Harry or wizards was said.

Merlin only knew what Fred would do to the occupants of Privet Drive if forced to go and besides, Harry was already running late for his Mediwitch training. He wouldn't want to miss learning about ingesting too much boobertuber pus would he?

xxxxx

"Hey, Harry?" Fred called out as he came into the stock room three weeks later.

"Hey Fred," Harry answered, concentrating on the mess in front of him. When Fred didn't continue Harry paused in wrapping the Creative Christmas Cracker, the latest in the twins' attempts to expand Christmas cheer, and looked up at him.

"If me and George were Muggles, what would we be?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the question and shrugged. "Humans, I would think." Fred blinked at him and Harry turned back to the Trick Mustache Teacup he'd been trying to stuff into a cardboard tube.

"No, I mean occupation wise," Fred said to clarify.

Harry thought about it and scratched at the scar on his forehead absently. "I dunno. Inventor or entrepreneur I suppose. Electrician maybe. They make things move about sometimes."

A grin broke out on Fred's face and he slapped Harry on the back. "Thanks, mate. That's perfect," he said before walking towards the front of the shop.

Ron watched as his older brother walked away and turned towards Harry. "What d'you suppose that was all about?"

Harry shrugged again and muttered the simple charm George had taught them earlier. No matter how many times he'd said it the tube still hadn't expanded enough to fit the teacup and saucer inside the damned thing. Perhaps Ron was right and George was just having another go at them. "No idea. He's been asking me the strangest questions about Muggles ever since he went with your dad last month. Even asked if they kept trolls in the Tube. Course, now that I think about it they're all about Muggles in some way," he muttered as he picked up another tube from the pile.

Fred had been asking him so many odd questions lately that Harry was beginning to expect them every time he saw him. ("Are you sure they don't trap people in those movies? They seem rather alive to me.") Ginny had said it was simply a fascination that all Weasley men went through at some point, though Fred was going through it much later than his brothers had. ("Why is their currency on a base of tens? It makes absolutely no sense. Or do they not know Arithmancy?") Mrs. Weasley had just waved off his concerns and put it down to his curious nature, though she had warned Harry to make sure Fred wasn't harassing Muggles; they already had one fanatic in the family and couldn't afford another. ("What is a taxi and are you sure I can't feed Lee to it?")

Once the teacup was finally in its package, Harry muttered a simple spell and watched as the wrapping paper jumped to life, winding its way around the cardboard and spinning the cracker around in the air before landing on the table with a soft thump. When he looked up to pick up another toy, he found Ron staring at him in horror.

"Well, do they?" Ron asked in horrific fascination.

"The trolls? Not that I know of. But there are people who ride it who certainly smell like one."

Ron was silent a moment as he took the information in. Likely he was just making a note to avoid the Tube from now on. "Don't suppose he picked up one of those Muggle diseases do you?"

"Doubtful. Ginny and your Mum said it was just a phase. Apparently you all went through it at some point," Harry said as he set the wrapped tube by the charmed ribbons. They both watched as it began to unwind and tie itself into a bow at both ends of the cracker.

"Yeah, but I was six when I did it, and Charlie was about eight when he went through it," Ron said as he dropped a Vanishing Vanity Visor into the end of a tube. "And once Dad took him to the Natural History Museum to see the dinosaurs he realized they were just old dragons." He paused as he struggled with a knotted piece of orange string. "Course George'd know better about what's going on with Fred. Might blame the head wound for it though. Said he's been acting a bit odd lately."

The mention of Fred's old injury caused Harry to glance towards the shop front in worry. He knew Ron was right. If anyone knew anything about Fred it would be George. But ever since his twin's brush with death four years ago, something had changed in George. Even something as small as a sniffle in the family would cause George fits of worry until they received a clean bill of health from St. Mungo's. And when it came to Fred, George was even worse, rushing him to the Mediwitches the second he thought something was off in any way. His behavior made Mrs. Weasley look as if she were taking mothering tips from Professor Snape.

With a small wave of his wand, the cracker jumped together and Harry made his way towards the shop front. He found George near the Wonder Witch line clipboard in hand, counting the bottles of hair dye and making notes to himself. Before Harry could make it past the Fever Fudge display, a Fizzing Whizbee crashed through the shelves in front of him, a Catherin Wheel following closely behind. Harry dove to the ground and rolled under a table only to come face to face with a grinning Lee.

"Wotcher, Harry."

"Lee, what in Merlin's name is going on?" Harry shouted over the fireworks.

"Come to steal ol' Freddy for lunch," Lee yelled back as he let lose another Catherin Wheel. "Haven't seen the wanker for weeks, keeps cancelling on me. My money's on a bird."

"Is that what's wrong with him?"

"Has to be. Remember how weird he was until he brought that Stella bird around two years ago? Took him ages to bring her round, and then she up and left before the month was out. There's Freddie," Lee yelled as he rolled out from the table and hopped into a low crouch. "See you round, Harry."

Harry watched as Lee dragged Fred towards the front of the shop, ducking and weaving to avoid the chaos. Fred gave Verity a wave before they slipped through the door. He made a mental note to follow up with Lee later and, once the coast was clear, crawled out from under the table. With any luck he could slip back into the workshop before he got roped into clean up.

He managed to make it to the stairway before Verity's brusque voice called out, "And where do you think you're going Mr. Potter? Someone's got to help me clean this mess up."

xxxxx

It was one of those days were nothing had gone right and things weren't looking up. He'd stayed up late last night trying to catch up on his assigned reading. As a result he'd slept through his alarm and missed class, only to be greeted by eight howlers from Mediwitch Halsey and another from the Muggle Liaison Department when he'd finally made it downstairs at ten. After sending off a quick apology to his mentor Harry found that Ginny had made him breakfast this morning, edible and still warm from her perfectly cast heating charm. Unfortunately, Ginny had forgotten to turn off the pilot light under the skillet and what was left of the pan was now stuck in the ceiling.

It wasn't until Harry went to clean the burn marks off the ceiling that he realized he'd misplaced his wand last night. He'd searched for more than an hour before giving up and flooing Neville for help, only to interrupt the careful replanting of a crop of acromantuala pods. Now he'd have to stop by St. Mungo's with an apology card before he could replace the stove.

Harry had finally been able to leave the flat around noon, determined to pick up the package that Muggle Liaison had been pestering him about for the past two months. It had been sitting at the Muggle-Wizarding post office exchange for almost a year now and it seemed as if the employees were getting tired of looking at it. Once he'd arrived, however, he found that the package was only his 'early inheritance' from his aunt and uncle, a reused produce box lined with smudged and torn pictures of his mother and stuffed with broken toys and ripped clothing.

So it was an understatement to say that Harry was not in the best of moods when he ran into his brother-in-law as he came out of the post office.

"Harry, there you are. And just in time to," Fred called out as he spotted him. Harry tried to suppress a groan and settled for grimacing at him instead. "Where can I get this blasted thing fixed? I've tried ever spell I can think of but all I've managed so far is to get it to chase the pygmy puffs and make a mess on the carpet."

Harry's eyes crossed as he tried to focus on the toaster held two inches from his face. It gave out a sharp bark and Harry jumped away from it and into a passing woman. He apologized and turned back to Fred. "At a repair shop I'd imagine. Why do you even have a toaster? I thought you hated toast?"

"I'm helping out a friend," Fred said quickly, tucking the toaster back under his arm and taking out a ten pound note. "Where is this repair shop anyways? And do they take these ounces?"

"Pounds, Fred, not ounces," Harry corrected with a sigh.

"Odd thing to be called that, doesn't weigh much more than a quill," Fred muttered as he looked at the note in his hand.

"Why don't you just buy a new one? It's not as if you couldn't afford it," Harry suggested as he began to walk towards Harrod's. If he was lucky the department store would carry both stoves and apology gifts and he could return home before Ginny got back from practice.

Fred sighed and followed Harry down Walton. "That's not the point though, is it? I'm supposed to be able to fix this. What use would it be if I just replaced it? Besides, where am I going to find another toaster in London? It's not as if they grow on trees."

Harry stopped in front of Harrods and took in a minute to take in the absurdity that was his life with the Weasley's. "Gee, I wonder where, in all of London, one would find a perfectly respectable, working toaster," he muttered before walking into the store.

"Exactly my question," Fred said as he followed Harry, the toaster still yipping under his arm.

xxxxxxx

Short chaptered piece because I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head for the past few months and Crispers is giving me all sorts of trouble. Major AU in that one particular character didn't go to Hogwarts (I'm sure you'll need only one to figure out who.)

Named after an old Doris Day song.


	2. George

George whistled an old Baba Yaga and the Batutut's tune as he set the last of the wards on the shop. It had been a slow week and he was more than happy to lock up early today. The fact that he and Angelina were going to be alone for the first time in weeks might also have had something to do with his decision to close up earlier than normal.

Lee had skived off an hour earlier and George and Fred had been left alone to straighten up the shop and count the tills. George hated running the numbers with a passion and Fred was more than happy to let George clean up after the few rowdy customers that had come through. Today, however, the shop was nearly in the same condition as it had been when they'd opened, an event almost as rare as Bill winning an argument with Fleur. Not that George was complaining. Especially when he'd be going home to Angie and her famous cherry turnover that much quicker.

With a grin, George headed to the offices at the back of the shop only to find Fred still sitting at the desk in the middle of the room staring at a wrapped box absentmindedly, the receipts barely touched in front of him. Every few seconds his eyes turned to the clock on the wall, an ugly orange cat whose overly large eyes and curled tail swung back and forth every second. Fred had insisted on putting the damn thing up last week, claiming that it would help them stay on task. Since then, George had found that Fred spent more time staring at the damn thing than actually working.

George watched his brother for a few minutes until it became clear that his brother's attention was far removed from the task at hand. "You've got it bad, don't you? Who's the bird this time?" he asked, his voice loud against the tock-tock of the cat.

Fred glanced over his shoulder and shrugged before turning back to the receipts. "What makes you think there's a bird?"

"We all know there's a bird. We've all known it for the past few months," George scoffed as he made his way over to the armchair shoved in the corner by the desk. "Now spill or I'm bringing Mum into it," he warned as he threw himself into the chair.

His brother frowned and turned back to the ledger to begin filling in the day's profits. When it became clear that Fred was using productivity to ignore him, George slipped his wand from the inner pocket of his robe and flicked it towards the inkpot, drawing a short line between it and Fred's right hand. He waited a moment before sending another spell towards his brother, this time aiming at his cheek. The quill paused as Fred rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. George grinned and recast the spell, Fred still none the wise. This time, Fred reached up with his right hand to scratch at his cheek leaving long black lines of ink in its wake.

Biting down a laugh, George slipped further down in the chair to slip the wand back into his pocket. "C'mon now Freddie. We've known each other our whole lives, I know when there's a bird involved. Even Angie's been asking if you've brought her round the shop yet. The only thing I haven't been able to figure out is why you've haven't brought her to Sunday dinner yet. Almost as if you're ashamed of us," he said with a grin. "Or of her."

Fred rolled his eyes and picked up another receipt. "Or perhaps I know you'll do your damnedest to scare her off."

"Moi? When have I ever scared anyone off?" George said with a scoff. He set he feet on the corner of the desk and closed his eyes. "Or are you confusing scaring off with attracting them to the better brother?"

"Sheila was the last one you scared off," Fred said as he began to count off on his fingers just how many George had scared off over the years. "Then there was Nancy who worked at Malkins, that American bird who was here to see her brother, Amelia in sixth year, Babette and Louisa in fifth –"

"A twin should never date another twin Freddie, let alone both halves. I was only saving you from yourself," George corrected.

"Then there was the first Brittany at the World Cup, the second Brittany at the Finals two months before that, that girl Oliver had been trying to set me up with after we reopened, the red-head who worked at the bar, the –"

"Alright, alright, I get it," George said, holding his hands up in defeat. "I'm bad for business. But, Freddie, if I manage to scare them off do you really think they'll last much longer with Mum? Besides, if they scare so easily they're not worth it mate. Can you imagine what they'd have done if they met Bill or Charlie? The Weasley's have always been a package deal. If they can't stand one of us they're not worth our time. Or has all that brewing of that damned Frizz-Bee-Gone shampoo finally gone to your head?"

Fred shoved George's feet off the table and frowned at him. "It's different this time."

Intrigued, George sat up and leaned towards the desk. "Oh? Do tell."

"It's just she," Fred paused and shook his head absentmindedly as he tried to explain the situation. "I mean we aren't really. Well, she's not really aware of. It's just that she's" he trailed off as he stared at the package on the desk. "It's just different, that's all."

George let out a long, low whistle and leaned back in the chair. "You've really got it bad. You're in love with her aren't you?"

Fred gave him a wolfish grin as he slammed the ledger book shut and stood up. "And damn happy about it, too," he said as he grabbed the package. "But if you even think about it near Mum I won't hesitate to tell her it was you and Ange who spiked the punch at Percy's wedding."

"Don't have to worry about Mum with me. She's been pushing the grandchildren angle for the past six months and we've only been married four. I swear that woman has a sixth sense when it comes to her children's lives," George said with a shudder. "But you do have to admit we livened up that wedding like only a Weasley could. Who knew those old stiffs could dance so well?"

Fred laughed as he headed towards the stairs to his apartment. "Give Ange my love," he called out as he disappeared up the stairs.

"And give your bird mine, whatever her name is. But don't come crying to me when she decides to chuck you for not bringing her to meet the family," George called after him as he took the seat at the desk.

xxxxx

Five months later…

George was ecstatic. The entire shop was filled with repeat customers, curious onlookers, and ordinary, run-of-the-mill types. They'd planned this day down to the last detail, strategically placing products in the windows and at eye-level to attract customers to their best selling products. They'd set out flyers announcing the arrival of their new product and the turn-out was better than they could have ever imagined.

This might even be one of the best days of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, right up there with their grand re-opening a few years ago. George couldn't remember the last time he was this proud of a new product, not since they'd first debuted their fever fudge to get out of Snape's class. It was so far above the Dancing Prancing Socks cousin Eunica had so graciously decided to test out for them at her birthday last fall. Merlin's beard, he hadn't had an idea like this in ages. He felt as giddy as the first time he and Fred managed to successfully turn all of Percy's wardrobe into exact duplicates of Aunt Muriel's old frilly robes.

This, this was their moment in the spotlight. On this date, the nineteenth of September, this date would be the one that would be remembered and repeated in hushed whispers all around the wizarding world. This is what would be studied years from now by bored Hogwarts students falling asleep in Professor Binn's never ending class. This is what others would try, and fail, to duplicate for their own homes. This is what would drive them into new markets and solidify their notoriety as geniuses in business for all time.

So where the bloody hell was Fred?

Almost an hour after closing, George was finally finished straightening up the Wonder Witch line of products and was debating on whether it would be easier just to have Lee and Verity come in early tomorrow to finish up. The day had gone brilliantly; they'd sold over 200 of the trick boxes and all 500 of the Need-It-Now Bags once word had gotten out about the product. They had to stay open two hours later than normal just to accommodate the long line of people clamoring to own one.

"Where do you want the rest of this?" Ron asked as he came back to the front of the shop with another box full of product, a smudge of black powder still on his nose.

"In the window there," George told him.

Ron set the box down near the front of the store and rubbed at the powder still on his nose. George couldn't help but laugh as he remembered the look on Ron's face as the Remember-Me-Not Ball blew up in his hands. His brother clearly wasn't expecting the ball to explode when the correct password was finally used and George could tell that Harry was trying not to laugh at his powder covered friend. Ron had been a good sport about the whole thing. Well, as good a sport as he usually was about being pranked publicly. And having Harry demonstrate the usefulness of the Need-It-Now Bag had been a brilliant idea on Lee's part. Nothing like the war-hero of the century to promote your product.

Ron scowled and began to unpack the box, ripping off the lid. "You could have told me that would happen."

"But Ronnikins, if we did that we couldn't give our devoted customers a genuine reaction," George said with a grin. Ron's scowl deepened and stomped towards the window display.

Even if Ron couldn't see it, the ideas for the Need-It-Now Bag and the One-Trick Box really were brilliant. Fred had burst into George and Angelina's apartment late at night about three moths ago waving restaurant napkins around his head and raving about his latest idea. At first the couple had been irritated by Fred barging in, but once he'd finally let them see the notes he'd dashed out on the napkin all was forgiven as they saw the idea's potential. George still hadn't figured out how he'd come up with it, but he knew it had to do something with Fred's mystery woman.

The idea was simple enough: a box or a bag that was large enough on the inside to hold everything a person might need on the go, yet charmed so that all one had to do to find an object was say its name.

The two had begun working on the charms they knew were essential the next day, eventually coming up with a rough prototype for their experiments. Once they'd worked out the basics, they'd begun with small objects, nothing larger than a quill, and once they'd managed to get the box working properly they'd moved onto books and cauldrons. It was at that point that they hit a snag that took them over a month to work around. Oddly enough, the solution to getting larger objects to turn up at the top of the bag had been to move to cloth bags. But once they'd made that move another hiccup in the plans had the bag confusing it's b's with it's t's and it's c's with it's h's. That had been solved after Lee had flirted with the shop girl at Malkins and she'd suggested blue satin rather than the bland terrycloth they'd been using. Her suggestion had worked like a charm and the resulting bag was not only functional but fashionable as well. Angelina and Ginny had both added beads to their bags and Verity had begun playing around with the styles to expand the line.

The Trick-Box, on the other hand, had been a happy accident of Ron's laziness. He'd begun storing old and defective products in the box after he'd found out they were practically bottomless pits. It wasn't until George had reached in to pull out a quill and pulled out a defective box of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder that he'd found out how his brother had been disposing of old products. George had gone around the rest of the day in a cloud of darkness and the twins had found an easy way to give out samples of their products while making a bit of coin.

The bell above the shop door tinkled and George glanced up, expecting it to be another customer trying to come in after hours. He frowned when he saw it was only Fred coming back looking worse than the wrong end of a blast ended screwt.

"And where have you been all day? Thought you'd be here when we unveiled the bags."

Fred glanced up from where he'd been staring at the floor and winced. "Something came up and it slipped my mind," he said softly.

George raised an eyebrow at that. Fred had never forgotten shop business before. "What would happen to make you forget? We've got posters up all over London. Hell, we even invited Mum this time."

Fred shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Look, George, I need to tell you -"

"Oi, there you are," Ron called out from the window. "Where've you been all day?"

Fred's mouth snapped shut and he shrugged, not even bothering to look at Ron as he began to make his way to the back of the shop.

"Is he just going to leave the mess to us then?" Ron asked as he climbed down from the window.

"Leave it, Ron," George warned as he watched Fred walk to the back of the shop. They'd have to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him at some point, but for now George wouldn't push it.

xxxxx


	3. Ron

Ron

Ron groaned for what felt like the twenty-third time that night. Between Fred and Percy this was one of the most boring nights he'd had since quitting his job at the Ministry.

"Twenty-four," a small, dreamy voice next to him corrected. Luna's hand reached for his under the table and he gave her a small smile.

Dinner tonight wouldn't be so bad if Fred could stop talking about the girl he'd been dating for the past seven months. He was worse about it than George or Percy had ever been. Merlin's balls, he was even worse than Ginny was after she'd met the famous Harry Potter for the first time. Ron glanced over to the end of the table where Harry and Ginny were sitting, still acting as if they were the only two in the room despite being married for two years now. Ron made a face and hoped that he didn't look that dopey when he and Luna finally decided to settle down.

And there Fred went again. Herman this, Herman that. If Fred wanted to date a bird with a man's name so be it. Bloody weird if you asked him.

Ron turned his scowl towards his older brother. Fred had been so absorbed in telling Mum about Herman's fabulousness that he'd completely missed Charlie drop something into his glass. Ron blinked at the sight. That was a first. The twins had always been so guarded against pranking payback that it was almost impossible to pull one over on either of them. Merlin knows Ron hadn't ever been able to accomplish it.

This woman had to be something to make Fred so oblivious.

"It really does seem like your brother has been taken by this woman, doesn't it?" Luna asked as she slipped her hand from his.

"Yeah," he answered, still watching to see the effects of whatever it was that Charlie used.

"I can only hope she isn't an ancient sealy. They always seem to bring despair and bad luck along with them. Though from his description I fear she might be."

George, already bored to tears with Percy's opinions on the use of house elves, leaned forward with his own thoughts on Fred's latest girlfriend. "You might be right on that. Can you believe he's never brought her round to see the shop? I still haven't met her and they've already been dating a year and a half."

"A year and a half?" Ron asked, his eyes widening in surprise. "He told Mum they'd only been dating seven months."

Why on earth would Fred lie about how long he'd been dating this girl? He'd never hidden anything about any of his previous girlfriends. Then again, he'd only ever mentioned them in passing. Even Nicole, his most serious relationship before this one, had only merited a sentence or two at dinner.

George shrugged and speared another piece of chicken. "Maybe she looks like the wrong end of a hippogriff?"

Ron grinned. "Nah, I think she's as old as Aunt Muriel, with just as many teeth and tits that sag down to her knees."

George snickered at the image. "She and Aunt Muriel can trade potions for gout at the next reunion."

Bill, ever the eavesdropper, leaned across the table to put his two cents in. "Or maybe she's related to old Moldy Volde and he's too embarrassed by her bald head and missing nose," he said with a smirk.

Fleur poked him in the ribs and frowned. "You should all be 'appy for him. 'E 'as not been so excited about a woman like this in a long time. I can only 'ope that you were this excited when you told your mother about me."

Bill smiled at his wife and threw his arm around her shoulder. "Of course I was darling! If anything I was ten times more excited. How could I not be when I had finally found the light of my life," he said as he turned his attention back to his wife. George made a gagging motion.

Molly's laughter carried from the far end of the table and Ron glanced at her only to find that Fred was talking about Herman. Again.

George shook his head and looked at his twin mournfully. "At least Mum's happy about. But there's still something that he's leaving out and he refuses to tell me what it is. Claims I'm just being paranoid and that he's just trying to shield her from Mum's attempts at wedding plans before she's ready for it."

Ron's jaw dropped as he stared at George. Wedding? There was a word that no one ever thought would come out of Fred's mouth without a wand to his head. The bachelor to end all bachelor's. The one a bloke went to when he needed tips on picking up a bird, and the one he went back to for tips to get away from the bird.

And now he was speaking about weddings? Scary. What next? Charlie giving up dragons for gardening?

xxxxx

It wasn't until a few weeks later that Ron began to suspect there was something more to keeping Hermono away from the family than just shielding her from Molly's enthusiasm.

Ron had stayed in the kitchen after Sunday dinner to help her with cleanup, Arthur and Percy drinking coffee at the table and going over the latest Ministry gossip. The rest of the family had retired to the den and were teaching Victoire how to play exploding snap when Fred walked in looking more put out than Ron could ever remember seeing him.

"Mum? Dad? Can I talk to you about something?"

Molly almost dropped the dish she had been pulling out for leftovers. Fred hadn't asked his parents for advice since he was seven and couldn't figure out how to get Ginny to come down from the tree in the garden. And he certainly hadn't sounded this nervous since George had gotten lost in the floo system when they were eight. And now Fred stood in front of them, looking for all the world as if his world was on the verge of shattering.

"Of course love, anything you want." Molly shot a glance at Arthur. "Ron, Percy, go on now. And close the door behind you, boys," she said as she began to shoo them out with a dishtowel.

"Actually, I want Percy to stay and hear this," Fred said as he placed a hand on the back of Percy's chair.

This time Molly did drop the dish she'd been holding. Never had the twins willingly requested Percy's presence for anything. Mostly he was tolerated for their parent's sake.

Now Ron had to know what was going on. He closed the kitchen door behind him and walked to the den, stopping just out of sight of the rest of the family before turning around and creeping to the door to eavesdrop. If Fred was this concerned about something it must have something to do with George or the shop. And as a (mostly) caring family member and employee, shouldn't he try to find out enough to help his brother out?

xxxxx

"So you didn't hear anything?" Ginny asked as she sat on the edge of the couch.

It had been two hours since Fred had walked into the kitchen and they were still in there talking. Percy had left about twenty minutes ago, running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself, looking almost as bad as Fred had when he'd first walked into the kitchen. Percy hadn't said a word to any of them as left, just shouted out his address and stepped into the green fire.

"I told you Ginny, there wasn't anything. He cast a silencing spell right after I left. Even those Extendable, Dependable Ears didn't work. Going to have to talk to George about his bloody false advertising," Ron said with a scowl as he slouched further down into the couch.

"Think George knows?" Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head and leaned back against him. "He doesn't know anything either. But I'd put money on it being about that Hermyonio," she said as she began to bite at her thumbnail.

"Think he knocked her up?" Ron asked.

"If he had, George would have been the first to know," Ginny said. "It's got to be something else, I just can't figure it out."

"Maybe this Hermononucleousis really is a troll," Ron said. "Probably smells like sheep and manure."

"Not really his type though."

"All I know is that if it really has something to do with this Hermoninny Fred really has some explaining to do," Ron said with a shrug as he stood up. "Waiting around here won't do any good though."

Ginny frowned at him. "You're only leaving because the Cannons are playing. Don't you care about Fred?"

He rolled his eyes and walked to the fireplace. "Of course I do. But even if we waited none of them are going to tell us anything. Besides, Basil's forward beater tonight and Gudgeon finally back after his concussion last month. See you at the shop tomorrow Harry," Ron said as he stepped in the fireplace.

xxxxx

Molly

Molly waited until Ron had left the room before she set the kettle on to boil. As her mother always said, hard conversations were easily softened with a cup of tea. And if Fred's nervousness was anything to go by this would be one of the hardest conversations he'd had with them. She set a tea cup and spoon in front of Fred and smiled when he picked it up and began playing with it. There were some habits your children never grew out of.

As the kettle began to whistle, Molly glanced over at Arthur, a wealth of conversation flowing between them. Whatever it was that had him this on edge was something bigger than that shop of his, something that would change his life forever. Molly had her suspicions about what the conversation was about, but she knew better than to try and talk before they were ready. Instead she began to set the table while the tea was steeping, taking her time as the silence filled the kitchen almost to bursting.

She and Arthur had known this conversation was coming but they had decided to wait until Fred came to them. He'd always been one who wanted to control the conversation and she'd learned long ago not to try and pull information from him. Unlike George, Fred was more calculating with his words and far more cautious about what he let slip into the conversation, a trait that irritated Molly to no end but had served him well in business.

Molly poured the men a cup before setting one in front of her seat. She lowered herself into the chair across from Fred and took a sip of tea before setting it down gently. Arthur gave her a small nod and she looked at Fred. "Now, what was it you wanted to talk with us about?"

Fred looked up for the first time since sitting down and set the spoon down on the table. "Have you ever tried to," Fred stopped and began to fiddle with the spoon again. "What do you know about bringing Muggles around magic?"

xxxxx

Small nod to A Very Potter Musical here (which if you haven't seen it, I'd highly recommend it, especially the second of the series).


	4. Molly

Molly flitted around the house as she made last minute changes around the house. It was the first time Fred had ever brought a woman around to meet the family and everything had to be just perfect. Regardless of her feelings about the situation (Muggles and Wizards had never mixed well), Molly still had a role to play as the dutiful mother and caretaker of the house.

The sound of a motor coming up the drive carried through to her from the open windows and Molly all but ran to the front window. She watched as a maroon car steadily made it's way up to the driveway Arthur and George had conjured up this morning. A glance at the clock on the wall - charmed with a spell to conceal the family's spoons - showed that the two were ten minutes early. At least the girl was punctual, more than she could say of Fleur or even Angelina.

As Molly tied the curtains back to get a better view of two talking in the car, Ginny rushed over to join her mother at the window.

"Is that her? She's a bit plain, isn't she?" Ginny whispered.

"None of that, Ginny. I'm sure she's a nice enough girl, even if she is a Muggle," Molly chastised. Though she agreed with Ginny that this woman looked far from what she had imagined, it wasn't her feelings on the subject that mattered today.

"How long do you think she'll last with George and Charlie here?" Ginny asked, this time loud enough for the rest of the room to hear.

"Not long if we've got anything to say about it," Charlie called out.

"Especially since he's decided I'm not good enough to introduce her to," George said from where he sat on the couch.

"I wouldn't have introduced her to you either," Angelina teased from her spot next to him. "You'd have already pestered the poor girl enough she'd be begging for a memory swipe."

"You know just what to say to a girl," George said with a grin.

"Be nice boys," Molly warned. "This is the first time he's bringing her over and we don't want to scare her away before dinner's even served. I can only imagine what that would do for your father's career," she said despite her own hopes that Fred would change his mind about the whole thing before they ever made it to the house.

After a few minutes, the couple finally exited the vehicle and began the long walk up to the house. Fred gave a wave as he spotted Molly at the window. He turned to the woman and pointed at the house, no doubt telling her his mother was already watching them. Her-my-knee, Molly reminded herself, smiled and waved back at the house. Molly did the polite thing and waved back at the Muggle. Perhaps today would turn out better than Elaine Nancy's Christmas party last year when her squib son decided to bring his new Muggle girlfriend around. Or perhaps it would just be a repeat of last year and act as a reminder as to why the line between the magic and the Muggle worlds remained firm.

Ron's mumbling drew her attention away from the window. Not a minute until Fred's Muggle arrived and the boy had started a new game of chess! Molly stormed over and grabbed the board, holding a struggling knight down with her thumb as she walked over to the side table and slammed it down into the first drawer.

"What did I tell you about magic Ronald? Nothing that cannot be explained by Muggle technology until after they leave."

"But Mum, I was only two moves away from winning. I had time," Ron said, half-standing as if he was about to go after the board to finish his move.

"Two? We're only four moves in," Harry said in disbelief.

Molly scowled at the two and put a locking charm on the cupboard. She added a silencing charm just in case the Queen went on another pawn murdering spree. Honestly, did these boys ever pay attention to anything she said?

As she went to return to the window, she caught George reaching back to throw one of his horrible products at the back of Percy's head. Molly reached out and grabbed George's arm, wrenching the slime covered ball from his hand and shoving it into her apron pocket.

"Hello, Mum. Didn't see you there," George said with an innocent smile.

"How many times do I have to tell you, none of those products in my house."

"It wouldn't have done anything to Percy, I swear," George said with a far too innocent smile, one that Molly knew belied the truth. "We just needed a test subject before we got around to finalizing the recipe."

"And I'm sure it would have nothing to do with disrupting today either. If I didn't know any better I'd have sworn you lot wanted to mess this up for your brother. He's been over the moon for weeks now, can't you behavior for just one afternoon? Besides, do you know what kind of trouble this would cause for your poor father and Percy to have to erase this girl's memory not even ten minutes after meeting us?"

George began to point towards her apron and she raised an eyebrow at him. "Mum, I really wouldn't suggest you -"

"I don't want to hear anymore from you, especially not if you're suggesting another one of your 'jokes,' George Weasley. And I don't want to hear anything further from any of you about magic or wizards or anything that could get us on a watch list with the Ministry," Molly said as she turned to face the room. "No wands, no magic, no anything that could raise any question that we are anything other than respectable, ordinary Muggles, do you hear me?" Her children grumbled a bit about it, but none of them said anything further about it and Molly nodded, satisfied that she'd finally got her point across.

"And if I so much as find even a wrapper from one of those damned products of yours, I will personally make sure those products of yours are banned from this house and every Weasley family event for the rest of your life, do I make myself clear George Fabian Weasley?

"As for the rest of you, be on your best behavior or we will be having a talk on proper manners after this. You all know how careful we have to be in this situation. The Ministry does not take kindly to introducing Muggles of any kind to magic and Kingsley was kind enough to allow Percy to act as the observing official. We are taking an enormous risk for your brother's sake and I'd hate for one of us to ruin this relationship for him because you couldn't keep your wands in your pockets. Do I make myself clear, or do I have to repeat myself again?"

Molly looked around the room as her children finally began to settle down into more Muggle-friendly activities. If she could only get Arthur to keep his questioning about Muggles to a minimum they might just get out of this alright, so long as Fred didn't do something stupid.

When Fred had first approached him about Hermione, they'd both tried to dissuade him from the relationship. They'd told him about all the relationships they'd ever know about where a Wizard tried to introduce a Muggle into his world. Not a single one of them were successful and all had required a qualified healer to erase the Muggles memory, not to mention a rather large fine on the Wizard. Fred had insisted, however, that this woman was different and Molly could only put her faith in her son. Once he'd made his mind up about something there was little she or Arthur could do to change his mind.

"Mum, we're here."

Fred's voice snapped her out of her own thoughts and she pasted a smile onto her face to greet them. "There you are my dear. We've all been so anxious for you to arrive," Molly said as she wrapped Fred into a hug.

She turned to the woman in front of her, assessing her for a moment. A bit shorter than Molly, mousey, curly hair that appeared to have a mind of its own, and a pair of front teeth that looked to be slightly too big for her mouth. Certainly not what she was expecting from Fred's description of her.

"And you must be Hermyin," she paused as Fred shook his head at her pronunciation. "I'm sorry, Her-my-knee, is that right? Welcome to our house," Molly said with a smile as she shook the young woman's hand.

Hermione returned the smile, albeit a bit more toothy, and handed her a bunch of daisies. "Thank you for having me Mrs. Weasley. I wasn't sure what flowers you liked, but I hate to visit someone without bringing something," she said as a way of explanation. Well, at least the girl had manners. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought dessert as well. Rather, my mother sent it with me. It's one of Fred's favorites, actually. And she said to give you her compliments on how well-mannered Fred is," Hermione said as she held up a covered dish.

Molly's smile tightened as she took the dish. She'd already made Fred's favorite desert in light of the occasion, or did this woman's mother think she couldn't take care of her own son? And of course she had raised her children to be well-mannered. Or did this Muggle already think that poorly of her.

"How nice of her," Molly said curtly. "I'll just go put these in the kitchen while you meet the rest of the family," she said as she turned on the spot.

"I've gone and said something wrong again haven't I?" Molly heard Hermione say after she'd left the room. At least this one was far more perceptive than Fleur had ever been.

"No, not at all love. I'm sure Mum's just as worried about today as you are. She probably just has to go check on something in the kitchen, you know how mother's are. Now come on, I'm sure everyone's been dying to meet you. Well, except Percy, but he's always been a prat. Did I ever tell you about …"

Fred's voice drifted away as the pair moved into the sitting room, his words bringing a small twinge of guilt. Molly steeled herself against it and continued into the kitchen. After all, first impressions were everything.

xxxxx

Arthur looked over his list once more as he checked to make sure he hadn't missed a single question. It was the first time a Muggle was coming over to his house. A Muggle of all things! And one who had lived their entire life as a Muggle even! As much as Harry was his son, this was an entirely different situation. Harry had been so steeped in the Wizarding world that he didn't have near enough of the answers to Arthur's questions. But this Hermione, she would know.

"Mum, we're here." Fred's voice carried into the small study and Arthur stood up hurriedly, setting aside his work papers and making his way to the sitting room. As he left his office, he saw Molly take a dish from the girl and walk towards the kitchen, a pinched look on her face she usually only wore around her French daughter-in-law.

"Ah, Fred, Hermione. There you two are, welcome welcome," Arthur said as he walked towards the couple. He shook Hermione's hand with both of his own, unable to hide his enthusiasm at having (a real, live!) Muggle in his home. "We are really quite happy to have you here with us today. Fred hasn't brought a girl around before, especially not one like you, so we've all been quite curious about you. I hope you don't mind a few questions, just to get to know you of course," he said. Fred gave him a pointed look, one which Arthur ignored.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Weasley. Fred's had so many good things to say about you, I can finally put a face to the name," she said with a smile.

"Indeed, indeed. You're all Fred seems to talk about lately. It's nice to finally meet the one who puts such a smile on his face." His words caused a light blush to spring up on both Hermione and Fred's cheeks and Arthur smiled. "So, Fred tells us your family's from Essex?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it's where I grew up."

"Brilliant, brilliant," Arthur muttered as he glanced at his list. "And would you say things are much different there, particularly in terms of this 'technology' you have?"

Hermione's smile began to slip and she gave Arthur a queer look. "Technology?"

"Dad," Fred said in a warning tone.

"They're pretty much the same everywhere, but why -"

"And what about these cars of yours? Do they only have one boot, or is there a boot for all four wheels?" Arthur asked as he began making notations on his list.

"I'm sorry? I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Dad, you promised. Remember?" Fred asked.

Arthur blinked and looked up from his list to find that Hermione had taken a step away from him while Fred was frowning at him. "Ah, yes. Right. Just a little game between me and Fred here is all," he said with a chuckle as he tucked the list and quill away in his pocket. "Now let's go and meet the rest of the family. I'm sure they've all been anxious to meet you."

xxxx

Molly

"So, Hermione, is it? What is it that you do, exactly?" George asked from his seat on the couch, his arm wrapped around Angelina.

"I'm a pediatric specialist. At least I will be when I'm don with training," Hermione replied from her perch on the edge of the second most uncomfortable chair in the house. The only reason it wasn't the first most uncomfortable chair was that Fred had taken that one when he realized that his siblings had strategically sat themselves around the room so as to leave those two as the only options.

"And how long does that take?" Molly asked, curious as to how long Muggle training took. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Arthur sit up and reach into his pocket for that damned Muggle list of his. As much as she loved the man she wished he could take a day off every now and then.

"Eight years, then another three for a specialization," Hermione told her. "I'm just about to finish my residency, though I haven't heard back about whether I've been accepted to a specialization program.

Fred grinned at Hermione before shooting a wink at his mother. "Don't let her fool you, she's already applied to four programs and they only just opened up for applications last week. She's absolutely brilliant, there's no doubt she's going to get in," he said. Molly raised an eyebrow at his tone, the same one Fred had only ever reserved for speaking about his shop, but kept her mouth shut.

"Any particular reason for pediatrics?" Angelina asked.

"Actually, yes. When I was about eleven, I fell out of a tree the first week of boarding school and had to be rushed to emergency care. I was in a coma for about eight weeks because of it. The only reason I'm still alive is because of the doctors who helped me. They saved my life and ever since then I've wanted to continue their work," Hermione said with a soft smile.

"And what boarding school was that?" Molly asked, alarmed that Muggles were so careless with their young.

"Somewhere up north in Scotland. The fall knocked a few years from my memories and it was only my first year there so I can't ever remember the name. My memory was so bad that when I first woke up I was convinced I hadn't fallen out of a tree but off a broomstick, if you can believe that," Hermione said with a laugh.

Ginny snickered and Hermione's smile fell as she misunderstood the source of her amusement. Noticing the confusion, Fred jumped back into the conversation. "Harry is training to be a doctor too."

"Really? Where are you studying?" Hermione asked, her happiness at finding some common ground coming through in her voice.

"Er, London," Harry said vaguely. He shifted in his chair and Molly wondered if it would be Harry to let the cat out of the bag this time.

"Really? I haven't seen you around at any of the hospitals. Are you studying at Queen Mary's, Imperial, or UCL?"

"Well," Harry paused long enough to shoot an imploring glance at Fred.

"And Charlie works with reptiles in Romania," Fred added quickly.

"Really? Isn't it too cold for them there?" Hermione asked. Molly was quickly beginning to realize that the young woman seemed more curious than anything else. Perhaps there was some hope for her and Fred.

"Nah, they love it there," Charlie said with a smirk. "Find it more invigorating for the blood, especially during the mating season. Gets the blood pumping and helps them get things to the next level. Though I'm sure Freddie here has no idea about that."

"And Percy works with the government, Ginny plays football and George runs the shop with me," Fred interjected quickly as he ignored his older brother's attempts to embarrass him.

"I'm sure you both enjoy working together," Hermione said. "Though you still haven't brought me to see your electrical shop, it sounds wonderful."

'Electrical?" George mouthed at Harry, the only one versed in Muggle vernacular. Harry only shook his head.

"One of these days when things slow down," Fred promised, not quite meeting her eyes.

"I'm sure I'll love it," Hermione told him with a smile Molly knew all too well. She'd seen the same smile on Ginny, Fleur, and Angelina. She'd even seen it on herself in their old photos as she looked at Arthur.

Molly sat up with a gasp and the entire room looked at her. "The photos," she breathed, whipping her head around to look at Arthur in horror. "Arthur, we forgot about the photos."

Arthur's eyes went wide as he sprang to his feet and rushed into the hallway. Her meaning first clicked with Percy who stood to block a group of photos before Hermione could see them, Charlie following his lead soon after. George and Angelina dashed out of the room towards the dining room quickly after and Molly could only pray that Hermione's curious streak didn't extend to demanding to see what they were hiding.

"Photos? What are you on about Mum, you haven't put up new photos in years," Ron said as he glanced at the photos behind Hermione.

Fred's eyes went wide as Hermione began to turn around in the chair and he stood up quickly. "You're right Mum, we did forget the photos at the framers. Shame we can't show them to Hermione today."

"Framing? What on earth are you talking about Fred, there were frames all over the walls when we came in. Fred, where are you taking me?" Hermione asked as Fred began to tug her along behind him to the front door.

"Nothing to see in those, love, just there as a place marker. How about we go see Mum's garden instead, lovely bunch of roses this year. She's very proud of it, I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when we come back in," Fred said loudly.

Once Hermione's frame disappeared behind Fred's, Molly opened the door to the bureau and flicked her wand at the wall. The frames rattled against the wall once before flying down and landed in a neat pile on top of a knight smashing a king to pieces.

"Mum, the gnomes," Ginny hissed as she rushed back into the room with an armful of frames.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Go warn your father," she whispered as Ginny set her armful down. "Fred, not the garden dear. I'm afraid I just sprayed for bugs and you don't need to breath that in," Molly called out as she shut the drawer.

"Sorry love, Mum's orders. We'll have to save the garden for a later date," Fred said as he tugged Hermione along behind him. He paused at the doorway, glancing at the now empty walls before leading her back into the room.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked as she stepped through the doorframe. Suspicion laced her words as she peered at the walls. "Weren't those walls covered in pictures just a minute ago?"

Molly glanced around and finally saw what had caught Hermione's attention. Squares of dark wood where the frames had once hung lined covered the walls giving them an almost drunk check pattern. "Of course not dear, we've sent all the frames back to be reframed." When it became clear this wasn't enough for Hermione, Molly decided a change of conversation was in order.

"How about we have some tea while we wait for Bill and Fleur to arrive? Would you like some?" Hermione looked at her oddly, but to Molly's relief the woman nodded and sat back down. "Fred, be a dear and fetch the tea set please. The one without the birds on it," Molly said, giving him a stern look. Of course the only tea set in the house that hadn't been charmed was a yellowing, unused set Aunt Muriel had given Molly when she'd first gotten married. For years Molly had cursed the old woman for saddling her with such a horrible family heirloom, but today Molly had nothing but thanks for the ugly set.

The two women sat together in silence, Hermione still looking around at the walls while Molly tried to remember if there was anything else she might have forgotten. When Fred returned a few minutes later, Molly thanked him and poured the tea. "And remind your brother's dinner will be ready in twenty minutes so they will have plenty of time to round up the rest of their little projects," Molly said as she picked up her tea.

Fred nodded and left the room, but not before sneaking a wink to Hermione who smiled back at him.

"Do you plan on marrying my son?" Molly asked when she was sure Fred was well out of ear-shot.

Hermione jumped at the bluntness of the question, almost dropping her own cup. "Yes. I mean, I think so. To be honest I've tried not to think about that too much."

Molly kept quiet, sensing there was something more to it than that.

"I'd like to get married to him. I can even see myself being married to him. It's just," Hermione paused and trailed off as she stirred her tea.

"It's just what?" Molly asked, unsure of what the hesitation was.

"Sometimes it feels like he's hiding something from me. Nothing small like cheating on an exam or wearing his boxes too many times before washing them, but something big. Bigger than him, if that makes any sense."

"Have you asked him about it?"

Hermione shrugged and set the spoon down. "Several times, but he's always managed to avoid the question."

The next fifteen minutes passed in a tense silence, Molly asking a few questions about Hermione and her family while giving tightlipped, vague answers to Hermione's questions. Fred came in every few minutes only to be sent back out of the room a few minutes later as Molly gave him another chore to complete.

Finally, a knock came at the door and Ginny popped her head in. "Mum, Bill's just owled and said they're running late. Vickie's got the flu and they're running her to St. Mungo's and we should start without them."

"Owned?" Hermione asked as she looked at Ginny for an explanation.

"Er, slang for phoned around here," Ginny told her with a grin.

"Right." Hermione set down her tea cup and stood up, eager to leave the room. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the water closet.

"Sure, it's just right around the corner. I can show you," Ginny said as her grin shifted to a smirk.

As the girls left the room, Molly sighed and stood up. She hadn't gotten the answers she'd wanted; then again neither had Hermione. Making her way to the kitchen, Molly found Fred surrounded by his brothers in a scene oddly reminiscent of his return from St. Mungo's after the war.

"Can Muggles really do that thing with their tongue? Quincy from the ranch said he dated a Muggle once and the things she did -"

"Charlie Weasley, the next words out of your mouth had better be appropriate for your mother to hear," Molly warned. "Someone go find your father so we can sit down and eat." Fred shot her a grateful look and slipped from the chair that he'd been cornered in.

"Thanks, Mum. Where's Hermione?"

A yelp was heard down the hallway and Ginny's giggling came close behind it. "It's really not that bad Hermione, I promise. That faucet's always been a bit wonky, I'll go get you one of my shirts to change into."

Fred's eyes narrowed and he stalked towards the bathroom. Molly could only sigh and pray that Ginny would give her a Muggle appropriate shirt. That or the girl knew nothing about women's football. Really, what was Fred thinking bringing a Muggle around this lot, let alone a Muggle who seemed so high-strung and reserved? The poor girl didn't stand a chance against any of the Weasley children regardless of how brilliant or resourceful Fred claimed she was.

Putting aside her concerns for later, Molly began to set the table by hand while she hummed an old Celestine Warbucks song. It wasn't until after the table was set that she heard Fred and Hermione arguing just outside the kitchen.

"Fred, can we just go back? I know they're your family but-"

"Please stay for dinner, love. I really do want you to get to know them. They're only messing about. They do this to everyone they first meet. And Mum will come around, I promise. She's not sure what to make of you yet is all."

"I just want to go home. I'm exhausted after this week and they're all too much for me right now. We lost three kids in ICU, Crooks broke his leg, and I'm running on less than twelve hours of sleep since I took on Poppy's night shifts last week. I just don't know if I can deal with this today. I've tried, but it doesn't seem like any of them want me here and your mother acts as if she wants me gone.

"She does want you here. She's been looking forward to this almost as much as I have."

"She doesn't act like it though. She's hardly said a word to me about anything other than our relationship and any time I do speak to her she practically ignores me if I don't say what she wants to hear. Please, Fred, I'm begging you. Can we just do this at a another time?"

Hermione's words set off a distant memory in Molly's mind of her first meeting with Arthur's family and she sighed. That had been one of the worst days of her life as Arthur's mother shot nasty remarks her way and his sisters ignored her the entire time. If it hadn't been for his sister-in-law stepping in to offer her a kind word Molly was certain her relationship never would have lasted past that night.

Molly set down the last of the napkins before opening up the adjoining doors to the mudroom. Hermione jumped at the noise and the panic on her face was as plain as day. Hermione turned towards Fred and hastily scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. One glance at Fred showed just how close he was to heartbreak and Molly's own heart contracted with his pain.

"Hermione dear. I'm sorry if we've come off a bit harsh, it's just we're not used to people like you coming round. It's the first time we've had a Mu-, well, someone so different from us here and none of us are quite sure how to react. Especially not when that someone has so clearly caught Fred's eye," Molly said with a warm smile. "And I have to apologize if you feel I've been too cold to you. It's hard to see your son growing up, especially when you realize how happy another woman can make him. Just the perils of being a mother I suppose. You'll learn all about that in time I'm sure.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up before supper. That is, if you'll still join us?"

Hermione sniffled and looked at Fred. Molly wasn't sure what she was looking for, but whatever she'd found was apparently enough. She turned to Molly and gave her a small smile before following her into the living room.

xxxx

So I might have told a white lie earlier and said this was only going to be five chapters in total. Then this chapter popped up and completely derailed my entire timeline, so sorry for the delay in getting this one out. But, a bonus chapter! Next up will be the last chapter, followed by an alternate ending.

Apologies in advance for any glaring mistakes I might have missed in my midnight editing session. I've started using a new word processor and it's been doing some weird things.

And a big thank you to EliexChan for helping me out with a translation.

xxxx


	5. Fred

Fred glanced around the table, waiting for one of his siblings to let the proverbial cat out of the bag. Dinner was going too smoothly. Rather too smoothly for a Wesley family dinner. And much too smoothly for Fred to feel anything but anxious. Molly finally coming down on Hermione's side did wonders for the tension overhanging the entire family, but it was still there below the surface. Almost like a large number of hungry hippogriffs waiting round for a rabbit to pop its head out of it's home.

They had to be planning something, Fred felt it in his bones. After years of pranking there had to be some kind of planned payback. It just wasn't in the Weasley nature to forgive in forget. Forgive and return the favor, definitely, especially when there was potential for premium embarrassment.

He glanced over at Hermione, still deep in conversation with Percy about the philosophical underpinnings of one or another government policy, and smiled that goofy smile he got when he was around her. Fred knew he was right about her; despite her non-magical status, she was quickly finding her place within the family. Well, with most of the family. George was still wholly suspicious of her (and had told Fred so on several occasions, at least one involving a dried herring and a lemur) while Charlie, never a fan of strange women to begin with, made sure to sit as far away from Hermione as he could. And Ron was… Well, Ron was still Ron after all.

As soon as seconds began to round the table, Ginny yelped and jumped out of her chair. Fred fought the urge to drop his head into his hands at the predictability of it all. Next she'd blame Ron.

"Ron, that was a dirty trick. You know that's the leg I jammed up against the Bangers last week," Ginny cried as she grabbed at her shin.

Then Ron would throw it back on Ginny somehow.

"I thought it was Charlie's leg. I wouldn't have kicked you if you didn't spread your stubby legs halfway across the table," Ron said with a scowl as he reached across for the last roll.

Next, Ginny would get petty revenge, most likely with food since Mum had rounded up everyone's wands while Hermione washed up for dinner.

"Hey, that was mine," Ron cried out as Ginny slapped the roll out of his hand and shoved it into her mouth.

"Too bad," Ginny mumbled around the roll.

Ron would then escalate the battle over food, probably with some sort of starch.

"Then I'm taking the rest of the potatoes."

Someone else in the family would jump in.

"The hell you are," Charlie said, snatching the rest of the potatoes from Hermione and dumping the rest of it onto his plate. "I'm back for the first time in three months. I'll be damned if you the rest of these."

Mum would try to put her foot down

"Settle down now, we have company. And don't you dare drop that dish Charlie, it's the last one we have from Mawmaw Prewitt," Molly snapped from the head of the table.

"Lively bunch aren't they?" Hermione muttered to him as she wiped mashed potatoes from her fingers.

"You have no idea," Fred whispered. "This is nothing compared to when we were little. Might want to scoot closer my way, love, Charlie tends to throw elbows."

"George, hands above the table," Arthur warned.

"In your dreams, drop-out," Angelina teased. "Besides, we all know Percy is the only one I have eyes for," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at Percy.

Angelina's words caused a blush to rise to Percy's cheeks and he had to clear his throat. "Now, Angelina. This is most inappropriate on several levels. Not that I don't think you're a lovely woman, but you know I have Amelia. Besides, George is right there," Percy said as he sat straighter in his seat.

"Hey, why are you giving potatoes to her?" Ron asked, his voice cutting through the beginning of Percy's speech.

"Because I'm his favorite sister and he got the last of the sausage," Ginny said as she scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out at Ron.

"There's a joke in there somewhere about left-over sausage, but Zara's already told it to the rest of us last Christmas," George said holding his forefinger and dumb an inch apart.

"She had no complaints," Charlie shot back with a grin. "Besides, we all know size doesn't matter when you know what you're doing."

"Charles Septimus Weasley, why I never," Molly cried out, her face turning pink from a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

"You did at least seven times that we know of Mum. Sides, practice makes perfect eh?" George chimed in with a wink.

"Ron, give it back, that's not yours," Ginny cried out as she began to lunge at Ron.

And there was the particular brand of Weasley chaos he'd come to know and occasionally love.

"It is too, you've been filching food off my plate this whole time. You saw it didn't you Harry?" Ron said as he lifted the plate higher above his head. Ginny jumped up and caught the edge of the plate, tipping it almost entirely on its side. The entire table watched in fascinated horror as the mashed potatoes and peas began a slow slide off the plate only to come to a rest on top of Angelina's head.

"I'll give you a five second head start," Angelina said in a low voice, her fist opening and closing in barely concealed anger. "One, two."

Ron and Ginny glanced at each other before scrambling over one another to run out of the dining room while George began to snicker. "Mashed potato is a good look on you Ang."

Angelina turned towards him and narrowed her eyes. "Don't think you're immune just because your sleeping with me George. Four."

"What happened to three?" George asked as he knocked his chair over in his haste.

"It went right out the window along with the chances of you sleeping with me for the next month. Five!"

"Mum, save me," he whimpered as he slipped out the door.

Molly only rolled her eyes and dropped her head into her hands while Arthur patted her on the back.

As dinner began to devolve into chaos, Fred decided now would be the best time to slip out before someone made to grab their wands to defend themselves. "Want to go on a walk?"

"Oh dear God yes," Hermione murmured, sliding her chair back and edging her way past the remaining members of his family before Fred had a chance to stand up.

Fred followed her out the back door, pausing only to grab his wand from the vase Molly had put them in.

"See what you've done? Gone and embarrassed yourselves. I hope you're all happy," Molly said, her voice following the couple out the door.

It wasn't until they passed the old oak tree that Fred finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry about all that. Usually things aren't that bad."

Hermione smiled and drew her arm through his. "It's quite alright. Quite amusing, actually. We never had this sort of chaos growing up, it was mostly just my parents and I for dinner."

Fred grinned at her and nodded towards the pond behind the Quidditch field. "Care to take in the scenery while you tell me more about your boring and depressingly lonely childhood?"

She laughed and poked him in the ribs. "And let you get out of telling me about the whirlwind of your childhood? You'd never forgive me."

"You wouldn't believe the half of it. It would be far too exciting for your single-child ears that you'd swear I made it all up just to sound important," he teased.

"You're utterly mad, you know that?" Hermione said with a laugh as they came near the dock.

"Utterly mad for you," Fred said with a wink.

"Tsk. Cheeky."

"Incorrigible too," he said causing Hermione to giggle. He watched her for a moment, taking the time to remember this moment and hoping it wouldn't be the last good memory he had of her. As her giggles slowed, he gently removed her arm from his and took a step away from her.

"Hermione, you know I love you right?"

She smiled at him and nodded. "Of course. And I'm in love with you."

Fred nodded and took a deep breath. "Right. No time like the present. You might want to sit down for a minute."

Hermione's face pinched up in confusion but she did take a seat at the edge of the picnic table. "Fred, is everything alright?"

"Yes. At least, I hope so. I mean, it will be once we get through this. Well, I hope we get through this I mean." Fred trailed off as he began to pace in front of the table. Hermione frowned but did't say anything. "I know we haven't really talked about it, but I want to marry you."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open, but Fred pressed on before she could say anything. "But the thing is there's something you have to know about me yet. I know you might have suspected I was keeping something from you, and I was, but the thing is I'm not exactly who you think I am," he said, coming to a stop in front of her.

"Oh? Don't tell me your secret identity is Jimmy Olson?" she said with a smile.

"Who?"

Hermione shook her head. "A comic book character. Never mind, go on then."

"The thing is, I'm actually -"

A loud crack came from over the hill and Hermione whipped her head around to look. Fred prayed to whatever gods were listening that it was the sound of old Mr. Thurkell shooting at ducks again rather than the sound of an apparition. Luck, however, was not with Fred today as Bill and Fleur came over the hill with a now healthy Victorie following close behind them.

"Bollocks," Fred muttered under his breath.

xxxxx

This story is bound to make a liar out of me one way or another as another chapter split into two. Last chapter before the end(s), but fear not diligent readers! They are coming soon!


	6. Muggle

Hermione could only watch dumfounded as the couple crested the hill, a small blonde child following behind them. It was as if they had appeared out of thin air. First it was the pictures that she was certain were moving, then it was the water from the faucet going against every rule of gravity to splash in her face, and she was almost certain she'd seen Fred's older brother Charlie talking to the fireplace when she'd left the restroom. And now people appearing out of nowhere. Perhaps her supervisor was right and she was working too hard.

The man waved and called out to Fred who called back to him. Hermione did the only thing she could think of and waved back.

"Where on earth did they come from?" she asked, her eyes following the figures as they went past.

"Er, probably parked along the back road near Mr. Thurkell's farm," Fred said quickly.

"But, you said the road we took was the only one to the house."

"Did I?" Fred asked, his eyebrows raised in feigned ignorance. "Must have meant from London is all," he added with a nervous chuckle. That made her turn towards him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Something was off here. She didn't know what, but she knew who did.

"Fred, would you mind telling me what's going on? Or do I need to go track the rest of your family down and ask?"

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Look, the thing is, Hermione, I'm a wizard."

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger's words failed her. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Nothing could have prepared her for the fact that this lovely, wonderful, witty, funny, though odd, boyfriend off era, whom her parents surprisingly adored, had gone completely and irrevocably off the deep end.

Surely she'd misheard.

Surely he didn't possible believe that.

"You're a what? A lizard?" Hermione asked uncertainty, backing into the table to steady herself. Her brain refused to fathom what it might mean if he thought he was a lizard, let alone a -

"A wizard, love. Wand included," he said with a wink. Despite her concerns for his mental state, she blushed. He always had that effect on her ever since they'd first met in the bookstore that rainy afternoon.

It would certainly explain his odd fashion choices. His being constantly out-of-touch with popular culture. His strange phrases and his confusion about her kitchen.

But no. It wasn't possible.

A wizard of all things.

And pigs could fly, right after they'd come up with the plans for a perpetual energy machine.

Hermione had to take a deep breath to ground herself. She could deal with this. Despite his confession, she still loved this obviously delusional man and even now she'd gladly follow him to the moon and back if he asked. Besides, she was a fixer at heart. If nothing else she was the best candidate to find him the help he so desperately needed what with her connections from the hospital. She could only hope that his (intimidatingly large) family would help to support him in this time of need.

"Fred, sweetheart. There's no such thing as wizards. They're only children's stories," she said gently, placing her hand on his arm in concern.

Concern which only grew as Fred began to chuckle. Oh dear. He really did believe he was a wizard didn't he? If only she could remember what her psychology professor had said about delusions. Was one supposed to tell them they were obviously delusional or go along with the delusion until one could find professional help?

Before Hermione could find her words, Fred stepped away from her and asked if she wanted to see his wand. "Well, the wand I haven't shown you yet," he said with a smirk. Hermione could only watch as he pulled out a well-worn stick from his back pocket and swished it around a bit before stating: "Accio broomstick."

They stared at each other, Fred smirking, Hermione frowning, both waiting for what she wasn't sure of. As the seconds continued to tick by Fred's smile began to slide off his face and, if she looked hard enough, she could almost see where it landed between the two of them. He muttered the words again and waved the stick around in the same pattern. Again, nothing happened.

She glanced back at the house, hoping against hope that this was another of Fred's jokes, one that he'd roped his family into helping him with. But the porch was just as empty as when they'd left and Hermione was faced with the reality that this was turning out to be a far bigger problem than she'd originally thought.

The back door of the house slammed suddenly and they both jumped at the noise. Hermione turned to find Fred's younger brother walking towards them, still scowling but this time covered in pink and purple spots all over his skin. When he finally got close enough to the couple he gave his brother a nasty look.

"Oi, you wanker. Don't think I don't know about you slipping something in my drink earlier. And Mum says dessert's about to be served, so whatever it is you've got planned you have ten minutes," he warned before pulling out a stick that looked suspiciously like the one Fred just had in his hands. "And you left this in the kitchen."

Fred breathed a sigh of relief as he took the damned stick from his brother. Hermione had to suppress a groan. His whole family was in on this? As the reality of what this meant began to run through her head her heart dropped into her stomach. What if they all thought they were wizards as well? Mass delusions, while rare, were not unheard of. Yet they were still far outside of her expertise. She was a pediatric specialist not a psychologist for goodness sake. While Fred was dealing with Ron, Hermione slipped her phone out and sent a text to her psychiatrist friend Neville and asked for everything he had on delusions. Certainly he would know how to fix all of this or at least know of someone who would.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket before Fred turned back to her and she couldn't help but purse her lips. He smiled at her, that soft smile he only gave her. "It will all make sense, love. Just trust me."

Hermione sighed and leaned back against the picnic table. "I do trust you Fred, in just about everything. But this? This is just mad. There's no such thing as magic, as much as you may want there to be, and we need to start looking at getting help for you. You have to realize -"

"Do you trust me enough to hear me out at least?" Fred asked, taking her hand in his. "I just need you to hear me out."

"I," Hermione paused. If he'd asked her that yesterday, or even ten minutes ago, she knew what her answer would be. But ten minutes ago he was still her kind, funny, sane boyfriend. And yet she knew if they'd ever get to a point where he'd agree to get help, she'd have to go along with this for now. "Yes, yes of course. But Fred, -"

"Then hold tight to my hand and close your eyes. And whatever you do, don't let go," he said as he pulled that bloody stick out once more.

Hermione closed her eyes. Whatever it was that he was planning would be dashed to bits when nothing happened. It was quite obvious he was knee deep in whatever delusion this was, so it wouldn't be a surprise to find out that he -"

Her next thoughts were violently jerked out of her mind as she felt a sharp tug at her navel and the decidedly unpleasant feeling of being turned inside out. The rush of whatever was happening to her slammed the breath out of her. Hardly a second later it was all over.

Hermione stumbled as her feet hit the concrete and Fred's strong arms wrapped around her. She grabbed at him, her stomach still trying to jump out of her throat. "Steady now love, don't want you pitching off the roof. Keep your eyes closed and focus on me until your stomach settles. There's a girl," he murmured softly.

Once the nausea passed, Hermione opened her eyes to find that they'd somehow switched the English countryside for a city rooftop. London to be exact, if her eyes were to be believed.

"Fred, where are we?" she whispered, her voice pitched with fear.

"Wizarding London, love. Above the shop to be exact." At his words Hermione gasped and grabbed his arm again. "I know it's a lot to take in right now, but it's the only thing I could think of to get your to believer me," he said softly.

"London? How? I don't understand."

"Apparition. A bit nasty your first hundred times, but it's how we manage to travel long distances. Like the tractor beams in those Star Wars movies you love so much."

"Star Trek," Hermione corrected absently. She pulled away to walk to the edge of the rooftop and gazed over the skyline. There was Parliament. And the Elizabeth Tower. If she stood up on her tip toes she could almost see the Eye above the building across from her. "How on earth did you manage this Fred? Was I drugged? Did I faint?"

"Nothing like that Hermione, I swear," Fred told her as he leaned against the chimney next to her. "Look at your phone. It hasn't even been ten minutes since we left the house."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, still not trusting what was going on or how they'd gotten to London of all places. It had taken them almost five hours to reach his parents' home and now he was asking her to believe that? One glance at her phone and she almost dropped it off the rooftop. It was only 4:43, not even two minutes since she'd texted Neville. She quickly pulled up the phone's GPS only to find that it placed her squarely in the center of London - exactly when and where Fred had told her.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked when she finally lifted her eyes to look at him. His eyes were still searching for her for some spark of belief and Hermione realized this was something far different than a delusion.

"I not sure what I believe anymore."

That drew a half-smile from Fred and he stepped towards her. "That's all I can ask for right now."

Hermione let herself be folded into his hug and sighed. At least he still smelled the same. "I suppose this means you're not really an engineer then?"

Fred laughed and kissed her head. "Merlin, no. Not in the least. Had a hell of a time trying to fix that damn toaster of yours too. Everything I tried didn't work out so I just went out and bought a new one so I could charm it to look like your old toaster."

"That explains why I never could get the toast burnt enough." He chuckled and pulled away from her. Hermione watched as he began to walk towards a door and her curiosity began to peak. "But what happened to my old toaster?"

"It's down in the shop terrorizing the pygmy puffs still. Magic and technology don't mix well you see," Fred admitted as he waved that stick, a wand rather, at the door.

"A pygmy puff? What is that?" she asked as the door began to swing open.

"Small, furry creature. No bigger than the palm of your hand. Originally they're the size of a small dog, but George and I started breeding them in school to get them down to the size they are now. Do you want to see one?" Fred asked hopefully.

Hermione set her jaw and nodded before striding through the door. She was Hermione Jane Granger, the girl with the insatiable curiosity and the woman with unrivaled bravery. Though a part of her still believed that Fred was making this whole thing up she was not one to be deterred when presented with a challenge. Besides, if Fred was bent on maintaining this delusion who was she to stop him now?

"Oi, Fred, George. I hope that's one of you or we have an even bigger mess on our hands. If it's Verity, nothing's wrong here, ignore that owl. The shop will be in perfect shape before you come in tomorrow," a voice called out from below them.

"What did you manage to bung up this time, you git? Didn't touch those cauldrons did you?" Fred called back. He slipped past Hermione and began to jog down the stairs and out of her sight.

Hermione followed him down the stairs only to find herself in what could only be described as a workshop out of a fairy tale. Herbs hung from the walls and filled the air with a dusky, earthy smell. Jars filled to bursting with eyeballs, powders, and liquids lined every shelf of the room while cauldrons bubbled below them. Notes were strewn haphazardly throughout the room and covered so much space on the wall she could only guess as to what was beneath them.

"You arse, you know I haven't touched a cauldron since that troll in potions. It's your Jump, Jive, and Jellybeans that are the problem here. They've kept everyone away from the Wonder Witch aisle all day," the young man with dreadlocks said with a frown.

"You mean they've kept away that bird you've been meaning to ask out all week. Didn't put them next to the Good Night, Sleep Tight Teas again did you? Lavender root makes them a bit jumpy," Fred told the young man before going to check on a set of cauldrons.

While Fred and his employee continued to talk about products and ingredients Hermione had never heard of, she began to wander throughout the room. Whatever she had been expecting when she stepped through that door, it most certainly wasn't anything like this. Pages of paper covered the walls, notes jotted down in Fred's tight, spidery handwriting and in what she could only assume was George's looser, slanted scrawl. The instructions themselves were simple enough. Dice this, grind that, stir in another, simmer until complete. The notes themselves showed a different picture, giving suggestions for substitutions and there were lines crossed out and followed by detailed side effects. Each cauldron had at least ten pages surrounding it, listing dates, times, and side effects. One even had a running list for the worst pun of the week.

The complexity and organization of the room astounded her as she continued to peruse its contents. If she closed her eyes she could pretend that she was back in the lab running tests on bacteria. Whatever it was Fred was doing showed such a degree of control and ingenuity that Hermione was almost ready to believe him. Almost. She still wasn't willing to completely let go of reality as she knew it. Baby steps perhaps, once she decided this was truly real, but she had to admit that the possibility that Fred was telling the truth grew larger at every turn.

As she breathed in deeply, trying to place where she'd smelled this particular mix of herbs and potions before, a familiar scent caught her attention. Freshly mown grass. New paper. Toothpaste. And something that reminded her of Fred. Cinnamon, and gunpowder perhaps? Hermione opened her eyes and walked towards the next potion, reaching her hand out as she drew nearer to it.

"Don't touch that," a pair of voices shouted at her.

Hermione pulled her arm back as if stung and turned to find Fred halfway across the room to her, Lee Jordan close behind. "Why? What is it?"

Fred winced before murmuring, "Love potion."

"Oh?"

Lee glanced between the couple and picked up on the unspoken question between them. "One of our most popular items since it wears off after a day or two. Not that we'd ever use it on anyone ourselves actually. Never had any trouble in that department, eh Freddie?"

Fred rolled his eyes and gestured to the man beside him. "And this is Lee."

"Fred's told me all about you," Hermione said with a smile as she held out her hand.

"Funny. He hasn't said a word about you," Lee said, giving Fred a pointed look as he shook her hand.

"Couldn't take the risk of you stealing her from me, could I?" Fred said with a grin. "Now come on, I want to show you the front of the shop."

"Whatever you do don't go near the Easter section. The stuffed rabbits decided to ally with the leprechauns and they've started a full out war with the Topsy Turvy's," Lee warned them as they walked out of the room.

If the workshop was straightforward and organized, the shop front was anything but. The walls were lined with rows and rows of product reaching incredible heights, stopping just short of the never ending fireworks going off along the ceiling. Small figures whizzed through the air, followed closely by beasts she'd only read about in myths. She watched as customers to her right began to try on hats, giggling when their heads disappeared while others grew rabbit ears.

"Wicked, isn't it?" Fred whispered in her ear, his hands resting on her waist.

"This is for real then, isn't it?" Hermione asked, her attention bouncing from shelf to shelf as she tried to take it all in.

"Fraud so, love. Think you can handle it?"

"Show me everything."

xxxxx

Whoo! Another one up and done!


	7. Witch (Alternate Ending)

A/N - In my excitement to post the last chapter, I forgot to note that that was the first ending to the story! Well, the first one I came up with. Below is the second twist that several of you were predicting, and the alternate endings is why I had to give some vague answers.

And yes, it was that Neville Hermione was texting. Because in a world where Hermione didn't end up at Hogwarts who's to say that Neville bounced when dropped out of that window? And if he didn't bounce because he was a squib psychiatry might catch his attention to find out whether there was something in Muggle medicine that might help his parents. And whether or not Hermione was a witch at some point or whether she lost her magic, I'll leave up to your imagination!

xxxxx

Fred had to look twice at Hermione as she began eagerly waving at the couple coming over the hill. "Bonjour! Comment allez-vous?" she called out, a grin lighting up her face.

Upon seeing Hermione, Fleur returned the grin and began walking over to them. "'ermione, ma chère! Que diable fais-tu ici?"

As the two women hugged, Fred's mouth dropped open in shock. Fleur asked something in French and Hermione laughed and motioned to Fred. The older woman smiled at him before dropping her voice and telling Hermione something that had her giggling. One glance at Bill showed that he was just as confused as Fred was.

"Who is that?" Bill asked after a minute.

"My girlfriend, Hermione," Fred told him in a dazed voice.

"Wait, the Muggle?" Bill turned and gave Fred a curious look.

Fred shrugged and watched as the women began to make their way towards the house arm-in-arm, Victoire tagging along behind them. "I really don't know any more," he admitted. Bill shot him a concerned look before following the women. After a minute, Fred began walking after them. He finally caught up with them at the backdoor to the house, the women still chatting away in French and Bill struggling to keep up with the conversation.

When there was a break int he conversation, Fred tugged at Hermione's hand. "Love, how is it that you know Fleur?"

"I could ask you the same question," Hermione said with a grin. "Fleur was my friend and tutor at the boarding school I attended in secondary. I wouldn't have made it through without her, she really is the only reason I graduated."

Fleur gave her a soft smile and shook her head. "You do me far too much credit 'ermione. You did not need my 'elp, if anything I needed your's, mon petit rat de bibliothèque. Gabrielle wouldn't 'ave done 'alf as well with her wand work if you weren't so patient with her. "

Whatever Hermione said next was lost on Fred as the gears in his mind slowly started to move. Wand work. Fleur. Attending boarding school with Fleur. But that would only mean that -

"Fred? Are you all right? You look a bit peaky," Hermione asked as she brought her hand up to his forehead.

"You're a witch," Fred breathed.

"I, well, yes," she said. "But how do you -"

"Oh thank Merlin for Beauxbatons," Fred said with a laugh as he pulled Hermione into a tight hug and kissed her shamelessly. Bill coughed and covered Victoire's eyes.

"What was that for?" Hermione asked when they finally separated.

"Beaux bloody batons," Fred crowed as he picked up Hermione and carried her into the house. He didn't set her down until they'd reached the dining room where it appeared his siblings were sitting in a tense stand off. Ron and Ginny were trying to kick each other under the table while Harry had pulled his legs up onto his chair to avoid getting into the cross-fire. Angelina was washing her hair in the kitchen sink and glaring at Ron. Molly was beginning to set the table for desert and Arthur had already retreated behind his newspaper.

"Oh, Fred, there you are. I was about to send Ron to go get the two of you," Molly said, setting the last plate down. She straightened and raised an eyebrow at Hermione still cradled in Fred's arms. "Things went well, I take it?"

Fred's grin widened. "She went to Beauxbatons," he said as he set Hermione down.

"Oh thank Circe," Angelina sighed as she pulled her wand out to clean the rest of the food out of her hair.

"One's enough from there, thanks. You can return her in the morning," Ginny said roughly from her end of the table.

Hermione turned to Fred, her eyes wide with surprise. "Then that makes you -"

"A wizard," Fred said with a laugh.

"Oh this is just fantastic."

"It's bloody fantastic."

At the revelation, Molly raised an eyebrow and looked at her husband. "Do you mean to tell me you didn't even think to look up whether Hermione was listed in the registry?"

"Well, no, not as such," Arthur said as he cleared his throat. "She didn't go to Hogwarts with the children despite being quite obviously British, so why would I think she'd be a witch? And Fred was so sure she was a Muggle and she was so knowledgeable about them when we met her in Muggle London."

Molly narrowed her eyes and brought her hands to her hips. "And when, exactly, did you meet her in Muggle London?"

"Wait, wait just one moment," Percy said as he stood up from his chair. Molly pursed her lips and gave Arthur a look as if to remind him the conversation wasn't forgotten. "If she's a witch how did you not know about it until know? You can't tell me there wasn't some suspicion. And how did you not know Fred was a wizard either?"

Fred shrugged, refusing to let Percy dampen his mood. "She's the only Muggle I've ever been around. The only thing I know about them is what Harry or Dad tell us."

"And I haven't spent much time with Muggles who aren't family after I was eleven," Hermione admitted. "I just thought he was a bit eccentric."

George frowned and leaned against the table to point at Hermione. "You can't tell me you missed the shop in all that time. We've been advertising like mad lately everywhere in the UK. We've even taken out a half-page in the Prophet."

Hermione only shrugged and gave him a half-smile. "I've only been to wizarding London twice, once when I was eleven and then a second time when I went to the Ministry to set up a floo connection to Paris. Even then I didn't have much interest in touring. And before you ask, I don't take the London paper since I have no connection to the English wizarding community."

"Have to change that, won't we?" Fred asked her with a wink.

"Does that mean you're not a doctor?" Ginny asked, alternating between watching Hermione with curiosity and sending glares towards Ron.

"Not a Muggle doctor, no. But I am almost done with my training to become a healer."

"Are you at St. Martin's or St. Pantaleon's?" Harry asked as he leaned forward to see around Ginny.

"St. Isabell's actually. I didn't have a chance of getting an apprenticeship in England, so Professor Herbalin helped get me one there. For some idiotic reason the UK Ministry doesn't grant apprenticeships to those who didn't go to Hogwarts," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

"Speaking of Hogwarts, why didn't you go there for school?" Angelina asked. "I don't think I've ever heard of anyone from the UK not going there for schooling."

"I did, for a few weeks at least. Then we had flying class. I've never been good with heights to begin with so it wasn't much of a surprise when I fell about a hundred feet off the broom. That put me in a coma until Christmas and by then I'd missed so much from the introductory courses that Professor Dumbledore didn't think I'd be able to catch up before the end of the term. He did offer me a spot in the next years class, provided I was able to keep up my studies in a Muggle school, but not even a week later we received a letter from Beauxbatons accepting me into their program. They're on a quarterly system there and the first years rotate through the different classes so they don't all take the same classes during the same quarter. It really was the perfect opportunity for me to catch up on everything I'd missed and my parents jumped at the opportunity for me to go out of country for schooling."

"Top of everyone of 'er class from the moment she walked in," Fleur said with a grin. "She managed to catch up with the rest of 'er class before Easter."

"Only with lots of help from you and Evelynn. My French was atrocious," Hermione said sheepishly.

"Still doesn't explain why Fleur never said she knew you when Fred wouldn't stop talking about you," Ginny said, frowning at her sister-in-law.

"It is not an uncommon name. There was another 'ermione who graduated before me, and another one who graduated after me. Besides, 'e met her in London, not Paris. 'ow was I to know they were the same?" Fleur said as she inspected her nails. Ginny narrowed her eyes and muttered something to Harry.

"Wait, I remember you now," Ron said, sending one last scowl towards his sister before turning to Hermione. "You're that know-it-all who couldn't stay on the broom for more than ten minutes let alone steer straight enough to dodge those dung-bombs Malfoy threw."

Hermione frowned at the memory. "Then you must be that foul-mouthed git who couldn't figure out the right end of his wand long enough to levitate a feather," she shot back.

Ron scowled and slumped in his seat. Ginny grinned before asking, "Think we can keep this one Fred?"

"If she'll have me," Fred said as he winked at her.

"I suppose you'll do for a Wizard," Hermione said.

xxxxxx

Hope you enjoyed reading! It was a lot of fun to write and I just wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to review, I really appreciate it! And a super big thanks again to EliexChan for the French translations.

I'm sure I missed some questions that were raised during the story, but this was just too fun of an ending to pass up.


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